


now i'm covered in the colors (torn apart at seams)

by orphan_account



Series: Soulmate (Colors) AU [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, References to anxiety/panic attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4829939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate AU, prompt by amazingjemma. </p><p>Jemma is a psychiatrist who has never seen the world in color. Fitz is her new patient, an artist trying to recover from a traumatic accident. She prides herself on professionalism, but when a brush of their hands causes a shift in her worldview, Jemma has to make a choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now i'm covered in the colors (torn apart at seams)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amazingjemma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/gifts).



> All of the lyrics and Session numbers are meant to be in italics but honestly, I struggle so hard to format on this website. So just please bear with me on that! 
> 
> Written for amazingjemma, who gave the prompt: Soulmates AU where person A sees everything in grey color unless he\she sees person B.Person A can be Jemma, who works in a psychiatrist clinic as a psychiatrist. She works with girls but then something changes and she works with Fitz (everything is grey: his hair, his smoke, his dreams) and they barely see each other unless he has a session with her. And that’s when magic happens (everything is blue his pills, his hands, his jeans) and with their every session everything is becoming clear and in the end they see each other in colors. Inspired by Colors by Halsey.

_Session 1: ___

_I hope you make it to the day you’re 28 years old. ___

“You seem a bit young to be a shrink, don’t you think?” her newest client says as he perches on the edge of an armchair in her office. She lets out a small huff of air through her nose as she takes him in. In her year of psychiatry and talk therapy at this clinic, she’d never had a male client. This was partially because the owner of the clinic had some sort of bad experience with falling in love with a client, but when Jemma had been the only one open to take this appointment, her boss caved. 

She tucks a piece of short hair behind her ear and adjusts her pencil skirt as it rides up. “Original. I almost never get that. If you must know, I’m twenty-seven.” 

He stiffens a bit. “Me too. Almost twenty-eight though.” 

She nods with a polite smile and clicks her pen. “So, what brings you here, Mr. Fitz?” 

“I had a uh, an accident,” he tells her, fidgeting with a shaking hand. “A friend of mine—well, thought he was a friend anyway—was gonna drive drunk, so I got in his car to try to get him to stop. He drove us into a river, got out and left me there.” 

She nods, her carefully trained facial expression remaining neutral. “I see. How long did you know this friend?” 

“Most of my life,” he shrugs. “I just—I haven’t been the same since. I used to—I was really—I was brilliant. I don’t say that to be arrogant, but I—I had a PhD at nineteen, you know? I was smart.” 

“And you feel as though that’s been taken from you,” Jemma supplies. 

He begins to relax a little bit. “My brain, my smarts—that was pretty much the one thing—it’s what made me, me. And now it’s gone, and I’ve got no idea where I fit in to the world anymore. My friends try to—try to help, but it’s—they don’t understand.” 

“Understand what?” 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m still underwater,” he mumbles, staring at his shoes. “And I can’t—can’t breathe. I try and try but I just can’t. I feel the water filling up the car and there’s not enough air.” 

Jemma scribbles down a few notes as he speaks and makes an encouraging noise for him to continue. 

“Sometimes I wish that Trip—he’s a firefighter, now he’s my best friend’s boyfriend—sometimes I wish he hadn’t, uh, hadn’t found me.” 

“Do you wish you had died, Mr. Fitz?” 

“Just Fitz is—is fine,” he tells her. She takes him in, all shades of black and white and grey. She wonders if any of the furniture in her office even matches. She sometimes wonders if one of her patients will tell her, given that they’re mostly of an age where they’ve already found their soulmate. She’d never had time for any of that, and outside of her college roommate Bobbi and Bobbi’s boyfriend Lance, she didn’t interact with many people that weren’t patients anyway. 

And having a patient as a soulmate was just completely and utterly out of the question. 

She shakes herself out of her melancholic musings and asks the question once more. “Do you wish you had died, Fitz?” 

“Sometimes,” he murmurs. “Sometimes when I—I can’t find the words or if I—if I think too hard about him, or if—if I think about how I’ll probably never see—“ 

Fitz’s sentence breaks off at the end and he shakes his head roughly. 

“Fitz? You’ll never see who?” 

“Not who,” he grits out. “I’ll never see—colors. I’m not gonna—know. And I’m an artist so that’s—it’s just really shitty, okay?” 

Jemma feels her heart clench a little bit for him, but maintains her professional façade. “Why would you never see colors?” 

He scoffs darkly. “A soulmate for me was a long shot from the very beginning, but now? Now it’s just—just a complete impossibility.” 

“I wouldn’t say that’s true,” Jemma says gently. “I know that you feel broken now, Fitz, but you’re just different than you were. And that’s why I’m here, to help you adapt as you transition.” 

“Transition?” he groans. “No, no. I don’t want---I don’t want to transition. I want to be fixed. Can you fix me or not?” 

By the end of his sentence, he’s nearly yelling and she takes it in stride. 

“No, Fitz, I can’t fix you,” she tells him candidly. “What I can do is help you learn how to cope with who you are now. What I can do is make sure that you see twenty-eight.” 

She scrawls out a prescription. “This is for an anti-anxiety medication. Next time you feel like you’re drowning or there’s not enough air, take one of these, and sit down some place quiet. I also have a printout of breathing exercises for you. Give them a try, see if they help.” 

Fitz gives her a skeptical glance but takes the prescription with a shaking hand. 

“I’m sorry I—I’m sorry I raised my voice.” 

Jemma smiles at him kindly. “It’s quite alright, Fitz. I have definitely taken worse abuse from patients.” 

“Still, I shouldn’t—“ 

She laughs a little, and the sound makes the corner of his mouth quirk upward. She finds she likes his smile. “Really, Fitz, it’s alright.” 

He gets up to leave, and she notices his hands are splotched with darker grey than the rest of his skin. Ink, she thinks to herself. She wonders if it’s a color, or if it’s just black ink. 

She supposes she won’t find out. 

__Session 4: ___ _

___You’re dripping like a saturated sunrise_  
_You’re spilling like an overflowing sink; __  
_You’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece. ____

“Hey Simmons,” he greets her as he enters her office. It’s their fourth week working together, and she finds that they have a good report. 

__“Hello, Fitz,” she smiles at him. “The kettle’s just finished.”_ _

__He nods at her and takes a seat in his usual armchair and gently takes the mug she offers from her hands. The brush of their fingers sends a strange numbness up to her elbow and she flinches, searching his face for any indication that he felt it too._ _

__Bobbi had explained to her once that she’d spent months knowing Lance, and had no idea that he was her soulmate until he’d drunkenly grabbed her and kissed her. For some people, it seemed, touch was the trigger for the bond. The soulmate bond, and the color blindness caused by it, were little understood. Some people made eye contact and instantly saw color; others could know each other for years, even be intimate with one another, and then wake up one morning able to see everything. For a while, in school, she had considered joining the many scholars and scientists committed to explaining the phenomenon, but a rather strange woman named Raina had put her off of it early on._ _

__“So, Fitz, how have you been this week?”_ _

__“Uh, I’m—I’m okay,” he tells her. His stutter has improved around her in their subsequent sessions, but she masks her surprise at his obvious discomfort with her. Did he feel it?_ _

__“And your panic attacks?”_ _

__He winces. “Those were—not—not so good this week.”_ _

__She takes a sip of her tea and picks up her pen. “How often did you have them?”_ _

__“A couple times a day,” he admits, looking down at his feet. She glances at him, shocked. That was worse than when he’d first come to her. “It’s uh—I guess a buddy of mine, he ran into—into Ward.”_ _

__“Ward?”_ _

__“The guy who did—did this,” he says, gesturing to his head. She scribbles this information down on her pad with a brisk nod. “He’s back in—in town. He asked my—my best friend Skye to—to tell me that he wants to see me.”_ _

__Jemma swallows down the panic she feels at the prospect of her favorite patient walking into the proverbial lion’s den._ _

__“Do you want to see him?” she asks carefully. He immediately becomes agitated and fidgety, putting the mug down and raking his fingers through his curls. She suddenly realizes that the shades of grey that make up her world are more contrasted somehow, a little bit more saturated in their appearance._ _

__“I don’t know,” Fitz tells her as he stares at his ink-stained fingers. “It might be—might give me some closure, give me a chance to give him a piece of my—my—my—“_ _

__“Mind?” she supplies when he snaps his fingers toward her in his practiced gesture of asking for help._ _

__“Yes, that.”_ _

__“As your doctor, I would not recommend it,” she tells him patiently. “The very thought of existing in the same space as him as increased your panic attacks from just two a week to multiple times a day.”_ _

__“I guess I just—I want to know why he did it.”_ _

__“A perfectly natural feeling. Sometimes, though, the cost of knowledge is too high.”_ _

__“Have you ever—have you ever had someone screw you over—this—this badly? Someone that was your—your best friend?”_ _

__Jemma’s thoughts briefly flash to her teenage years, and then stick on the image of her father throwing a bottle at her from across the room and striking her head. She quickly shakes herself of her meditations and looks back to Fitz._ _

__“No,” she tells him. “I’m human. I’ve had my share of small betrayals and—unfortunate incidents with people that I’ve trusted but never to the extent of what you’ve endured. But Fitz, you have endured them. You are incredibly resilient, and my fear, as a professional, is that seeing this Ward will only cause a backslide and destroy the progress that we’ve made.”_ _

__“We’ve?” he asks her, his eyes wide and trusting._ _

__“Well—you, obviously. But we’ve done a lot of good work together, I think, and—“_ _

__He chuckles warmly and it fills her with satisfaction. “We have. We’ve been fixing it. Together.”_ _

__She gives him a small smile at that. “So, what do you think? Is it worth the risk?”_ _

__He wrings his hands together and stares at them with narrowed eyes before looking back to her. “No. No it’s—it’s not.”_ _

__He suddenly presses his palms into his eyes, breathing deeply and counting to himself. Jemma recognizes the move as one of the exercises she had taught him, and she resists the sudden urge to move across the room to kneel in front of him._ _

__“Because of what he did to me, I’m damaged,” Fitz eventually chokes out, and her stomach clenches when she sees the tears on his face. It’s the first time he’s let her see him cry, and there is something profoundly intimate about it. “And I—part of me just—wants to make him face that.”_ _

__Damaged is the last word she would use to describe the talented and sensitive man in front of her. Brave, sure. Strong, absolutely. Resolute and loyal and determined, most definitely. But damaged? That had never crossed her mind._ _

__If she was one of his friends, Skye or Trip or even his boss, Coulson, then she would tell him all of this. But she’s his doctor, and so the best she can do is scoot the box of tissues closer._ _

__“Does that make me—make me like him?”_ _

__“Absolutely not,” she tells him fiercely, a little more so than she intended. His eyes snap to hers, and in this newly shaded world she sees just how deep they go. “You are made of better stuff than most anyone I know.”_ _

__“Most people you know are broken like—like me.”_ _

__Jemma shakes her head fondly. “Oh, Fitz. One day you’ll stop using that word. None of my patients are broken, and neither of you. All of my patients have endured a great deal, and have come out different, and stronger, for it. You will, too.”_ _

__He scrubs the tears off of his face and gives her such a wide smile that she can’t help but return it._ _

___Session 9: ___ _ _

_____Everything was grey ___  
_His hair, his smokes, his dreams ___  
_And now he’s so devoid of color __  
_He don’t know what it means. ____

___She’s stopped asking him not to smoke in her office. He only does it on particularly bad days, anyway, and it stops his bad hand from shaking. She knows that she’s probably a little too soft with him, and she can only imagine what Bobbi would say; but of course, she doesn’t talk to Bobbi about her patients. All Bobbi knows is that she has one male patient and that the one time they’d touched, everything had grown more contrasted—but no colors appeared in her vision._ _ _

___He inhales his cigarette and tilts his head back as he puffs the smoke out. She absolutely hates how attractive she finds him when he smokes, and she shifts in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her and taking a scalding sip of tea to bring herself back to reality._ _ _

___“I know you hate the—the smell,” he tells her as he ashes his cigarette into a glass on the table._ _ _

___She sighs lightly. “Yes, well, if it helps then who am I to judge?”_ _ _

___“You mean other than when you put a brochure for quitting in my jacket when I went to the loo?”_ _ _

___She narrows her eyes teasingly at him. “I meant what I said about keeping you alive, you know.”_ _ _

___“Yeah, yeah,” he tells her._ _ _

___“So, what’s got you smoking today, Fitz?”_ _ _

___He groans and runs a hand through his hair as he takes another drag. She shifts again._ _ _

___“I’ve got—I’ve got a date.”_ _ _

___She’s not sure why, but her stomach drops onto the floor._ _ _

___“Oh,” she says lamely, and then tries to smile. She’s pretty sure that she’s just showing her teeth to him in a frightening display, rather than the sweet and encouraging look she’d been going for._ _ _

___“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles. “It’s—it’s a terrible idea.”_ _ _

___“No!” she says quickly, and he gives her a wide-eyed look of surprise at her abrupt tone. “No, it’s not—not a bad idea at all. It’ll be great. I think it’s a fantastic way to put yourself out there again.”_ _ _

___ _

___“Really?” he asks her hopefully. Even though her body seems to be in wild revolt against her, she manages to swallow down her nausea and tell him that it’s a wonderful idea. The smile he gives her is worth it._ _ _

___They spend the rest of the session talking about his frustrations with his hand when he tries to work on his art. They discuss calming techniques to keep him front destroying any more of his sketches, and he awkwardly digs around in his shoulder bag and procures a leather book._ _ _

___“This is uh—my sketchbook,” he tells her as he hands it over. She raises her eyebrows. “I draw—I draw some of my dreams when I wake up and—yeah, I dunno, thought it might be—might be helpful for you to take a look.”_ _ _

___The first few images are of a square-jawed man, looking angry and getting into a car. She knows this must be Ward, the night of the accident. Next she sees a man, shaded darker than the other, with a large build pulling what appears to be Fitz out of the water. Next is a girl with bangs and wide, watery eyes. She looks like she’s coming from above and staring down at the viewer. Simmons quickly deduces that this must be Skye._ _ _

___She flips through a few pages, marveling at his attention to detail and raw talent. Then she sees one of herself, legs tucked underneath herself, a mug in her hand and her notepad in the other. Her face looks relaxed and encouraging._ _ _

___“Oh, uh—I forgot. That I did that one. It was—it was—“_ _ _

___She cuts him off. “Fitz, don’t worry about it. You’re extremely talented. If only I looked half that good in real life!” she jokes._ _ _

___He freezes at her statement and she winces at her poor timing._ _ _

___“You know, it looks like we’re out of time!” she says, overly brightly. “See you next week, then. Good luck on your date.”_ _ _

___He seems a little thrown off by her change in demeanor as he shoves his sketchbook back in his bag and says goodbye to her. She moves quickly to her desk, keeping her back to him as she lets out a harsh exhale and closes her eyes._ _ _

___It’s only once the door is shut that she realizes he’d been watching her. She gulps down another breath and pulls out her phone to call Bobbi. Happy hour is most definitely in order._ _ _

____Mack’s Pub __  
_9:45 p.m. ____ _ _ _

____“I can’t believe this,” Bobbi tells her, mouth hanging open. “You’re Dr. Jemma Simmons! You love to follow the rules.”_ _ _ _

____“And I’m breaking the most important rule!” Jemma whines, stomping her feet before taking a long sip of her drink. “I just—I don’t know how this happened. It just crept up on me so quickly.”_ _ _ _

____“I don’t know why you’re both so surprised,” Lance says from Bobbi’s right as he pops a handful of peanuts in his mouth. “I knew this would happen.”_ _ _ _

____“You did not,” Bobbi scoffs, rolling her eyes._ _ _ _

____“I did!” Lance defends. “Remember? I said, “if Jems falls for anyone, I bet it’ll be some patient ‘cause she works so damn much.”_ _ _ _

____“You fell for a patient, Doc?” Mack, the pub’s owner, asks as he slides another drink her way. “That’s shitty.”_ _ _ _

____“And he’s on a date,” she informs him petulantly. “And I can’t do anything about it.”_ _ _ _

____“Well, you know what you have to do,” Mack tells her sagely. She looks up at the giant man with an expression of profound sadness and he almost wants to take it back, but he’s been giving it straight to Jemma Simmons since she started coming here at 21 years old, and he’s not about to stop now. “You’ve got to transfer him to another doctor.”_ _ _ _

____“I know,” she moans miserably. “I know. I’m just—I’m gonna miss him is all.”_ _ _ _

____Mack pats her on the head sympathetically and moves to the next table waving him over. To Jemma’s surprise, Lance’s hand cover hers._ _ _ _

____“Aw, c’mon, Tiny,” he comforts, giving her a little squeeze. “Maybe once you’re not his shrink anymore, you can make it happen.”_ _ _ _

____Bobbi gives him a soft look in response. “Is this the guy who made everything more contrasted?”_ _ _ _

____Jemma nods sheepishly. “Yeah. We touched hands and then everything got more—clear. Less hazy. It’s all still shades of grey but it’s almost like there’s more of them?”  
“Maybe he’s the one,” Lance says easily, pulling from his beer. “Simple as that.” _ _ _ _

____“Not that simple,” Jemma corrects. She takes a hefty swig of her own drink and then meets familiar eyes across the bar, despite the fact that she’d never met the girl before. “No, no, no.”_ _ _ _

____“What?” Bobbi asks, immediately on guard. Having a best friend who worked for the police department was great in some ways, but her consistent protectiveness could be somewhat grating._ _ _ _

____“That’s Fitz’s best friend Skye,” Jemma mumbles into her gin and tonic as she chugs again. “I saw a sketch of her today.”_ _ _ _

____“On the brightside, she probably doesn’t know who you are,” Lance supplies. Jemma brightens a bit and nods, until she sees that the other girl is hot-footing it toward her._ _ _ _

____“I’m sorry,” the girl says, not at all apologetically, “but are you Dr. Jemma Simmons?”_ _ _ _

____Lance barks out a laugh. “Sorry, love. Spoke too soon.”_ _ _ _

____“Yes,” Jemma replies. “And you must be Skye.”_ _ _ _

____“He talks about me?” Skye asks excitedly before the smile drops off of her face. “I swear, I only pulled that prank because I thought it would help, I’m not a bad person.”_ _ _ _

____Jemma waves her off. “He speaks very highly of you, Skye.”_ _ _ _

____“Not as highly as you, I’m sure,” Skye says. “I thought he’d drawn you prettier than you really were. No offense. I just—I didn’t really think his shrink could be hot and young and British all at once.”_ _ _ _

____Bobbi grins. “I like this girl.”_ _ _ _

____“Skye, this is my best friend Bobbi and her worse half, Lance.”_ _ _ _

____Skye nods at them in greeting. “Well, Dr. Simmons, I just wanted to thank you, for everything that you’ve done for Fitz. I can’t even tell you how much better he’s gotten since he started to see you. He’s like—it’s almost like how he was. But maybe even better.”_ _ _ _

____Jemma beams proudly. “Call me Jemma, I’m not your doctor. Even Fitz calls me Simmons. He just needed a little bit of nudging. He’s doing great.”_ _ _ _

____“I don’t know where he’d be without you,” Skye tells her gratefully. “He’s even on date tonight.”_ _ _ _

____Jemma winces. “Yes, so he said. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab another one of these.”_ _ _ _

____“No way!” Skye exclaims, grabbing Jemma’s empty glass. “Let me buy you a G and T. It’s the least I can do.”_ _ _ _

____Jemma’s heard enough about Skye to know that she can’t hold the boisterous girl off for long, so she nods and thanks her. Skye darts off toward the bar and Jemma puts her head in her hands._ _ _ _

____“You’ve got to be bloody joking me.”_ _ _ _

____“We can just bail if you want?” Bobbi asks. “I know all of the ways out of here.”_ _ _ _

____“She thinks that makes her special. There’s a red exit sign over all the doors, and she acts like a super spy for knowing the exits,” Lance jokes. Bobbi elbows him rather hard and turns back to her friend with a questioning look._ _ _ _

____“No, I don’t want to be rude.”_ _ _ _

____Skye returns quickly, making herself comfortable on Jemma’s left side and handing her a double gin and tonic. “Figured I would just kill two birds with one stone, I was gonna buy you more than one.”_ _ _ _

____“Thank you,” Jemma says politely. “Where’s Trip?”_ _ _ _

____“Fitz is adorable, I love how much you know about us. He’s on duty tonight at the station, so I’m just off on my lonesome. Fitz is supposed to meet me here after his date. I’m hoping he’s too busy getting busy for that to actually happen, though.”_ _ _ _

____Jemma sucks down a third of her drink in one gulp and Skye’s eyes widen._ _ _ _

____“Damn, shrink can drink!”_ _ _ _

____“In college, this girl was a fucking tank,” Bobbi interjects, hoping to take some of the heat off of Jemma. “There’s a picture of her somewhere in here after winning a shots contest.”_ _ _ _

____“I wish you would stop pointing that out to people,” Jemma hisses. “I’m a professional!”_ _ _ _

____Skye laughs. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Fitz that his doctor could drink him under the table. So, you’re a psychiatrist that loves to drink. What else are you into, Jemma? Tell me everything.”_ _ _ _

____And hours go by, and she finds that she does. She and Skye bicker about Grey’s Anatomy and have a heated debate about whether or not McDreamy is all that great. Skye tells her all about her job at an IT company, and she even fixes Lance’s phone at the table. Skye checks her phone periodically and types quick spurts of text messages, but Jemma is too scared to glance over or ask about it. Instead, she melts into the feeling of enjoying some time off with a drink in her hand and three very funny people surrounding her with jokes._ _ _ _

____Mack joins them, and somehow the group ends up in a spirited game of Never Have I Ever._ _ _ _

____“Never have I ever…” Skye begins, looking around with a calculating expression. Jemma twirls the straw in her fifth drink, another double gin and tonic, and watches the other girl wearily. “…hooked up with one of my female friends.”_ _ _ _

____Skye looks hopefully between Bobbi and Jemma, waggling her eyebrows and crowing as both girls clink their glasses together and take long sips._ _ _ _

____Lance sits back, looking pleased. “It’s one of my favorite stories, really.”_ _ _ _

____A faint spluttering sound comes from the edge of the table and Jemma looks up to find Fitz, dressed in some slacks and a white linen shirt, staring at her with wide eyes. “Fitz!”_ _ _ _

____“Simmons?”_ _ _ _

____“It’s Jemma, actually,” Skye slurs. “I happened to run into her!” she says defensively at his glare. “How was your date?”_ _ _ _

____“It was—it was okay,” he dodges. “I’m gonna—go—grab a beer.”_ _ _ _

____As he walks away, Jemma stands up wobbly legs and grabs her purse, climbing awkwardly over Skye._ _ _ _

____“I need to leave. I need to leave right now.”_ _ _ _

____“Woah, Doc, relax,” Mack tells her, standing and putting a heavy hand on her shoulder. “You’re fine. At least say bye to him first.”_ _ _ _

____“I can’t,” she tells him, shaking her head quickly as tears begin to burn her eyes. “I need to leave.”_ _ _ _

____“I’m really sorry,” Skye tells her, standing quickly with placating hands outstretched. “I should have warned you he was on his way, I shouldn’t have thought it was okay to just—“_ _ _ _

____Jemma cuts off her explanation with a raised palm as she turns and dashes from the bar. It’s not the first time she’s run out of Mack’s Pub at nearly one in the morning with tears in her eyes, and it probably won’t be the last—but somehow it hurts worse than all those other times._ _ _ _

____Just like all of those other times, she feels leather clad arms wrap around her as Bobbi catches her._ _ _ _

____“Hey, Jem, it’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”_ _ _ _

____She knows Bobbi is wrong, that there’s nothing to figure out because she’s broken the most important rule of her career, but she sinks into her anyway and cries._ _ _ _

____For so long, she’s been okay with a grayscale existence, but the stuttering artist with the bad cigarette habit made her want to know what color the inkstains on his hands were, and how they would look against her skin._ _ _ _

____She was in trouble._ _ _ _

_____Session 10: ___ _ _ _ _

________You were red and you liked me because I was blue ____  
_You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky __  
_And you decided purple just wasn’t for you. ____

_____As soon as Fitz enters her office, he can tell that something is wrong. His own hands are shaking, too, his nerves getting the best of him after she’d bolted from the bar the week before._ _ _ _ _

_____“Mr. Fitz,” she says formally. He furrows his brow and bites his lip; she hasn’t called him that since their very first session over two months ago, and something about it wounds him._ _ _ _ _

_____“What’s going on?” he asks immediately. “Did I—did I do something wrong?”_ _ _ _ _

_____“No, Fitz,” Jemma sighs. “Please have a seat. I need to talk to you.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I thought that—that’s what we always do,” he weakly jokes. He gets a quaky smile in return, and the look of fear on her face has him on guard. He sits on the edge of the chair, just like his first session, and the sight of his obvious discomfort makes her stomach roll._ _ _ _ _

_____“I—can’t be your doctor anymore,” she blurts out. She’s not sure what reaction she expected, but she’s surprised when he leaps to his feet and begins pacing._ _ _ _ _

_____“What? Because I—because I saw you drunk? It was like—thirty seconds.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“No, Fitz, it’s not because of—“_ _ _ _ _

_____“Did Skye—did Skye say something to you?” he rages. “Because I swear, I never thought she’d approach you in public. I’m so, so sorry that she—she did that, but I can make sure it doesn’t happen again—“_ _ _ _ _

_____“It’s not that,” Jemma tries to appease, standing up and approaching him. “It’s got nothing to do with the bar or Skye or any of that, although it probably should. It’s just—I think another doctor could give you better care.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Better care?” he yelps as though burned. “I’ve gotten so much better with you, Simmons. Ask anyone, I’m—I’m doing so much better. Please, don’t make me see another doctor.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“I’m really sorry, Fitz. In my professional opinion, this is what’s best.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“Am I just too difficult for you?” he spits out, and his anger causes her to draw back. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’m too much bloody work.”_ _ _ _ _

_____“That’s not it!” she tries desperately, grasping his hand to pull him back. He’s already moving toward the door, slinging his bag over his shoulder and shaking her off. She ignores the rapidly spreading numbness in her body, unsure if it’s a reaction to touching him or to the panic she’s currently feeling._ _ _ _ _

_____“Whatever, Jemma,” Fitz practically growls. It’s the only time he’s ever called her by her first name, and she knows it’s because it’s the last time she’ll see him. It cuts her like a knife and she nearly doubles over. He begins to breath heavily and curses under his breath, rifling in his satchel for the little bottle of pills she knows he carries. He opens it with shaking hands and dry swallows one in the doorway just as he slams it shut._ _ _ _ _

_____Jemma collapses onto her chair and puts her head in her hands, letting her emotions take hold._ _ _ _ _

_____It isn’t until she’s leaving for the day that she finds one of his little pills on her carpet. She bends down to pick it up and nearly cries again when she looks at it._ _ _ _ _

_____She’s not sure what exactly to call it, but it’s not grey or black or white. It’s some other shade that she can’t place, so she slips it in her pocket and brings it to Bobbi and Lance’s place to ask them what color it is and to cry into a glass of wine._ _ _ _ _

___________Mack’s Pub ___  
_Three weeks later __  
_10:30 p.m. ____

______Now I’m covered in the colors, __  
_Pulled apart at the seams. ___ _ _ _ _ __

______“Jemma!” a loud voice calls out from near the pool tables. The psychiatrist shuts her eyes tightly and Bobbi gives her arm an encouraging squeeze._ _ _ _ _ _

______“We may need a new bar,” Bobbi whispers to her and Jemma nods as she turns to greet Skye._ _ _ _ _ _

______Skye looks at her pleadingly. “Jemma, I don’t know what happened but—Fitz, he really did better with you. He says his new shrink is actually pretty good, I guess he’s seeing someone named May now? But I just—I feel like this was somehow my fault, and he was so upset, and—“_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Skye,” Jemma placates her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It wasn’t anything you did. It was nothing he did. It was just—I couldn’t give him the kind of treatment he needed anymore. That’s all there is to it. I’m glad to hear he’s doing well with May, she’s brilliant.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Why couldn’t you?” Skye demands. She shakes herself. “I’m sorry. It’s just—he means a lot to me. I met him when he was in art school and I was living in my van, and he was the first person to ever really—notice me, you know? After what Ward did to him, I thought I would never have my Fitz back but he’s here and it’s because of you and I just need to know why you left.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I didn’t leave,” Jemma corrects. “I just couldn’t be his doctor anymore.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“But why?!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bobbi steps between them. “Alright, Skye, we’re just trying to have a drink and get her mind off of work. This isn’t exactly helping.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Skye takes a deep breath and narrows her eyes before storming off toward the man that she knows is Trip. Jemma lets out a shaking breath and gives Bobbi a look. Bobbi reads it immediately and grabs her hand, pulling her toward the bar._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Rack ‘em up!” Bobbi calls to Mack. He takes one look at Jemma’s miserable face and lines up four shot glasses, dumping tequila into them. He quickly lines the rims with salt and expertly dangles limes on the side._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You alright, Doc?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I will be,” she assures him. She quickly downs both shots with her best friend and makes her way back to their booth._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Are you sure you don’t just want to leave?” Bobbi asks._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I can’t be at home,” Jemma admits softly. “I’ll just think too much.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bobbi nods in understanding. “Do you want Lance to kick his ass?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Jemma snorts. “God, no.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I know, I was just hoping it would get a laugh out of you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______They begin to make a tower out of coasters, and each time one of them places the coaster that topples the whole thing, that person has to drink. Before long, Jemma has nearly forgotten about Skye’s confrontation. She’s almost forgotten about the little blue pill in the pocket of her jacket, but every now and then she rolls it over her finger tips to remind her that it’s there._ _ _ _ _ _

______Blue is still the only color that she sees, and only in it’s lightest form, but it seems to surround her everywhere she goes now._ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Bobbi asks. Jemma nods slightly and gazes around the bar at all the people wearing the color._ _ _ _ _ _

______“It really is.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bobbi slides a glass of water toward her friend with a knowing look, and Jemma sighs, sipping at it carefully. She idly listens to Bobbi describe a crazy case she’s trying to solve when something catches her eye. The back of a curly head at the bar jars her, and when he turns to talk to a shorter girl, she realizes that it’s Fitz._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh my God!” Jemma squeaks, diving underneath the booth._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Jemma?” Bobbi asks tentatively. “Do I want to know why you’re down there?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fitz is here,” Jemma slurs miserably. “You were right. We shoulda left after Skye accosted me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You’re the most eloquent drunk girl I know,” Bobbi tells her with her head cocked to the side and a teasing grin on her face. “C’mon, I’ll sneak you out.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bobbi slinks out of her hoodie and tosses it to Jemma, who hands Bobbi her own jacket as she pulls the LAPD sweatshirt on. She quickly throws up the hood and squirms back up from under the table, grabbing her purse and making a break for it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Shit, I need to close out!”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“No time, Jemma, come on. We’ll text Mack from the cab.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______She nods and lets Bobbi shield her from sight as they leave the pub. They spend the rest of the evening on Bobbi’s couch, and Mack even comes over after closing with Bobbi’s credit card and a take out container of Jemma’s favorite bar food._ _ _ _ _ _

______She’ll be okay, she thinks to herself, as she watches Lance and Mack bicker over video games._ _ _ _ _ _

______She misses him, but she’ll be okay._ _ _ _ _ _

_____________The next morning, ___  
_Jemma’s apartment __  
_9:45 a.m. ____

_______There’s a banging on her door, and Jemma groans, lifting her head slowly off of her pillow to look at the time. She’d returned from Bobbi’s at five and immediately fell into bed, exhausted. Her head vaguely ached, but she chalked it up to lack of sleep rather than tequila. By the time Mack had walked her home, she’d been cold stone sober._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Jemma! Open up!” a loud voice calls as the banging continues._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Who the hell—“ she grumbles, and swings the door open to find Skye standing in her hallway._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I brought tea,” Skye chirps. “And donuts!”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Jemma sighs heavily and steps back to let her in, following her into the living room._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I can’t say I expected you, Skye.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I know. I’m sorry. I’m like, the most intrusive person ever, I get it. Trip told me this was a crazy idea, but I just—I needed to talk to you when I wasn’t four beers deep.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Jemma shrugs and sits down on the couch, still wearing Bobbi’s hoodie. She takes the proffered tea from Skye and picks up a chocolate donut._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Skye takes a deep breath and plows on. “I meant what I said. Fitz was—really happy, when he was seeing you. He looked forward to going to therapy. He was good about taking his meds, and he started drawing a lot more. He even sold a few pieces and started doing some commissions for his old firm again. That probably doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it was. And I just—I have this crazy suspicion, and you can tell me that I’m way out of line and kick me out and never see me again, but I need to know.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Jemma bites her lip and nods at Skye to continue._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Did you stop seeing him because you had feelings for him?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______The words hang heavy in the air between them and Jemma places her cup on the coffee table, sinking her face into her hands. Skye gasps and moves to sit beside her._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Oh my God, I knew it. Listen, Jemma, he is so into you it’s ridiculous. I know he is. He literally admitted it to me, and Fitz has never told me that he was into anybody, like, ever.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“What about that girl you set him up with?” Jemma mumbles into her palms._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“He took her out to dinner, rushed through the whole thing, and didn’t even walk her home,” Skye tells her. Jemma gives her a dubious glance and Skye holds up a hand. “Scout’s honor.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“How did you find out where I live?” Jemma asks suddenly. Skye blushes._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I have a certain set of…skills that let me track you down. You should probably secure your computer. If you ever have any crazy patients with a similar skillset.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Jemma snorts and suddenly she can’t stop laughing, because this is absurd. Skye is wearing a light blue Henley, sipping coffee on her couch and telling her that she’s basically stalked her just to find out if Jemma likes Fitz._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“What world am I living in?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“A black and white one, I assume?” Skye asks with a small nudge. Jemma nods but then corrects herself._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Ever since that last day, I can—I can see blue.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Skye shoots up off of the couch and grabs her coffee. “This is fantastic. God, this is so perfect. Okay, look out for my phone call later. I have a plan.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Then she’s out the door and Jemma is left staring at nearly a dozen donuts, a million questions swirling in her head. Her eyes began to droop and she decided that the questions could wait. Sleep would need to come first._ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jemma’s apartment, __  
_6:30 p.m. ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ __

_______________Everything is blue ___  
_His pills, his hands, his jeans ___  
_And now I'm covered in the colors __  
_Pulled apart at the seams ____

________Jemma’s phone rings just as she’s pulled a shirt over her head. The first call from Skye had come thirty minutes earlier, with the excitable woman shouting at her to be ready to go for a drive. Jemma glances down at her simple outfit of a grey blouse and some dark jeans and accepts them as the best that she can do. She grabs her keys off of the end table near the door and heads out to Skye’s van, which idles outside._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hey!” Skye greets, as though this is something they always do. “Ready to go?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Where exactly am I going?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“The beach,” Skye replies, as though Jemma should have known that. Jemma buckles in and finds herself at the mercy of Skye’s idle chatter for nearly forty minutes as they drive through the canyon roads that lead them to the ocean._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jemma hasn’t seen the ocean since blue became a part of her life, and she gasps when she sees it. The late summer sun remains in the sky, letting her see the sparkle of the waves against the black and white backdrop of clouds. She forgets to ask Skye why they’re here, and dashes toward the sand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She reaches the water’s edge and lets out an exhilarated giggle as she kicks off her shoes and lets the waves lap at her toes. The blue color disappears the closer she gets to it, and she figures that it becomes translucent nearer to the shore._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Jemma,” a familiar Scottish brogue whispers behind her. She spins around quickly and nearly loses her footing into the water, and Fitz moves quickly to grasp at her hips with shaking hands._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Fitz,” she breathes, glancing up at him in awe. “What are you—“_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I, um, I asked Skye to look you up after I saw you sneak out of the bar last night.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Oh.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yeah. See, I just—I really wanted to know why you—why you couldn’t see me anymore. And Skye kept telling me that it had to be because you had feel—feelings for me, and I thought it sounded crazy, but I also knew that when I started leaving, I could see the color of my eyes for the first time and I just—I don’t know. I needed to—to see you again.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Jemma swallows hard and takes him in, but she’s so distracted by the color that slowly floods the entire picture. She sees the creamy tone of his skin, and a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. His hair is almost the same color as the sand underneath their feet, and his eyes are a darker blue than she’s been able to see. She looks and finds that his jeans are a similar color._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Oh my God,” she whispers. Fitz is staring at her in a similar state of disbelief, and she wonders what she must look like, but she’ll have enough time to stare in the mirror later. She decides that there’s a much more important task at hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Skye’s not crazy,” she tells him. “Well, okay, maybe she is. But not about this. I started to—to feel things for you that are strictly not allowed, and I didn’t want to take advantage of you or compromise your growth in any way, so I did what I needed to do and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, Fitz.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He beams at her and before she can recognize it, he’s moving toward her and pressing his lips hotly against hers. She faintly hears Skye whooping in the background, and she grins against his mouth as the tingly numbness she recognized from their brief touches floods her system._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Wow,” she pants when they pull apart. He nods wordlessly, eyes still shut. “Fitz! You’re missing all the colors.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Don’t need ‘em,” he grumbles back, capturing her lips once more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A few months later, they sit across from Bobbi and Lance at Mack’s Pub, waiting for Trip and Skye to bring their drinks to the table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“So, now that you can see,” Lance asks her, leaning forward, “what’s your favorite color?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She smirks at Fitz. “Hm. I think it’s red.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“What?!” he yelps. Jemma laughs and kisses him on the cheek._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“It’s blue,” she whispers into his ear. He gives her a satisfied nod in return and briefly kisses her despite Lance’s loud protests. She turns his ink-stained hands over in hers. After months, she still hasn’t stopped marveling at the color._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________And he’s blue __  
_and makes me blue. ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
